


Master Wade's Buttons

by katiebour



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Crack, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-23
Updated: 2011-04-23
Packaged: 2017-10-20 18:24:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/215785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katiebour/pseuds/katiebour
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Master Wade finishes a piece and decides to show it to Herren... but Denerim's markets are a dangerous place at night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Master Wade's Buttons

**Author's Note:**

> This is a one-off fic I wrote at my boyfriend's request- after all, who doesn't love Wade?

Wade sighed with contentment as he delicately clipped the last of the thread and put away his sewing needle and thread. The vest was complete, at last, and the long row of delicate, hand-carved buttons that had taken him months to finish gleamed in the candlelight.

 _Herren will be so impressed,_ Wade thought, giggling as he slipped the vest over his tunic. _I simply must show him, now!_

Wade slipped on his drakeskin shoes and headed out into the night- no doubt Herren was drowning his sorrows at the Gnawed Noble, complaining about Wade’s (lack of) progress on Lord Such-And-Such’s armor.

As Wade walked from his house through the alley leading to the center of Denerim’s market district, he caught a sudden flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye. The two rough-looking men grabbed Wade’s arms as he let out a squeak of surprise.

“Gentlemen, please, let’s not be rough!” Wade whined slightly, mindful of the dirty, greasy hands that might touch his lovely new vest. A bulky man with a drooping mustache approached and eyed Wade, then sneered.

“Fancy getup you’ve got there, _ser._ Them’s awfully nice buttons.” The ringleader with the mustache chuckled, then ran the point of his dagger down the front of Wade’s vest. He snipped off a button, delicately. Wade watched in horror as the single pure, inlaid, _dathrasi_ -ivory button fell to the dirty ground with a musical _clink,_ and bounced into a pile of mud and refuse that had piled up.

Wade turned to the large man, his vision bleeding into red. _My lovely, lovely button-_

And then Wade’s mind, mercifully, blanked.

Residents of Denerim’s Market District huddled indoors, some closing and barring windows, making sure their doors were locked. The inhuman screams coming from the alley no doubt presaged some terrible invasion by demons, or perhaps the elves had escaped from the Alienage to wreak havoc.

********************************************************************************************************

Herren stumbled into the house he shared with Wade, pleasantly drunk, to find Wade sitting in front of the fireplace, hands delicately carving a button out of _dathrasi_ -ivory.

“Weren’t you done carving buttons?” Harren asked, frustrated by Wade’s continued obsession with the silly things. “I thought you were going to work on Lord Perrin’s armor tomorrow.”

Wade looked up, a feverish glint in his eye. “Just one more button, dear Herren; just one more!”

Herren noted with approval that Wade had at least taken the time to bathe and change his clothes- the smith sometimes got so caught up in work that he’d go for days without eating or bathing. “Very well, Wade, but I do hope you’re done soon. We need to take care of our _paying_ customers, you know.”

Wade smiled at the button in his hand and giggled, “Oh, they’ll pay, Herren, they’ll pay.”

********************************************************************************************************

Morning found Sergeant Kylon standing in the alley, a perfumed hankerchief held to his nose. “Andraste’s ashes,” he breathed, “What in the Maker’s name happened here?”

One of Kylon’s men was quietly throwing up in another corner of the alley, while Lieutenant Bradley, pale and shaking, reported on the situation.

“We’ve found five hands, _ser_ , so we think there’s at least three bodies. Hard to tell, frankly, what with all them bones and guts and skin all tangled together, somesuch. Perhaps we should send a messenger to the Circle, and see if they can send someone to check for demon-magic?”

Kylon nodded, turning his eyes away from the carnage. “Agreed, Lieutenant. In the meantime, I want double patrols in the Market district.”

Kylon bent down as something shimmered in the darkness of the alley, and picked up a single, delicately carved, inlaid button from a puddle of muck. The thing shone in what little light passed in between buildings, and Kylon was struck by the beauty of the object. “Hmm,” he said, then shrugged and pocketed the button. His wife might like it, to make a necklace or somesuch.


End file.
